Underneath My Skin | Poetry

08 | Losing

Losing

What am I afraid of most?

Is it fear of heights?
Or losing my vision of sight?

Am I dreadful of gaining some weight?
Or is it being called names such as skeleton
and stick, perhaps this is my fate.

I may be all skin and bones but fear not
for I will not let anyone break me,
hate me, taint me.

With my eyes looking for a way to escape
the hopeless reality I'm stuck in, I endured
all the jokes and taunts, a smile on my
face no one recognised was fake.

Why does it matter so much to
people whether I'm skinny or twice
as fat when it's my body?

Why is everyone looking down on me
as if I am a default piece which needs to
be fixed to their pleasing wish?

Whose voices are floating inside my head?
I got so obsessed with everyone's opinion,
putting them above myself, I ignored my
own tiny desperate plea.

I'm tired of fighting this never ending
battle. I'm so sick of feeling this way.
What is it that I'm most afraid of?

I think I'd say I'm terrified of
losing myself.